Gypsy Devil
by LambchopMagee
Summary: Aurora Hawthorne is everything a high-class girl shouldn't be, and this draws the attention of a certain Tommy Ryan. Will her grandmother succeed in brainwashing her into a proper young lady? Or will Aurora be able to keep her rebellious nature?
1. Meet Aurora

This is the first story I've written in a good two years, so I apologize for lack of excitement or anything. It plays out well in my head; I just hope I can document it correctly.

Right now I'm going through a serious Titanic phase, and I've undoubtedly fallen in love with the character Tommy Ryan. Which is why I'm writing this.

I can't do dialogue very well, so whenever Tommy or any other accented person is talking, just imagine their voices yourself. I'm sorry. Aurora has a bit of a cockney accent mixed with just a tish of proper English and lots of Irish thrown in there. She's hung around too many damn pubs. (: She keeps it hidden around the robots, but around others she lets loose. I'm only gonna make her accent noticeable when she's in italicized thought mode or talking, same with everyone else. It makes it easier for me. I'll try my best with it all, but I make no promises. DON'T JUDGE ME. D;

All of the characters from the Titanic are not mine, except for the ones I have created myself.

\\\

_April 5, 1912._

_Southampton, England._

These are rough times for women. Especially those lost in the sea of poverty and hunger. You see, I just so happen to be a woman. And I am drowning in a sea of despair.

I'm not exactly the type of person people in the high-class society wish to be around.

I'm half Gypsy.

Frowned upon, scorned, spat at, cursed, insulted, the like.

I've grown used to it over the years.

My father was the son of an Aristocrat. Traveling the not-so-clean areas of London was a pastime of his, and he did it as often as possible. He was a sneaky rule-breaker. As am I, which might be where I get it. Next to my mother, of course. This is where the Gypsy blood comes in.

One day, a Gypsy caravan was having a show in the slums of London. My father came across just as the dancers appeared. Among them was my mother. Long, beautiful tight waved locks of black silk for hair, lightly tanned skin, almond shaped golden eyes, and nice legs.

This is what attracted my father, at first.

He was dying to meet her, and so he did his best to get her attention after the show.

Disappointment crept in when he couldn't find her, and he went to return home.

My father was stopped by a cry for help. To his luck, it was the beautiful Gypsy woman. But horrible muggers were attacking her.

I don't know all the details, exactly, but I do know my father kicked their asses, which led to my parents first meeting, which led to their first date, which led to their first kiss, and it went on from there.

His name was Vincent Hawthorne. Her name was Tsura, which meant "light of dawn." Her name fit perfectly with her golden eyes.

They were secretly married, but you can only imagine my grandmother's reaction when she found out what kind of "creature" her son had impregnated.

My mother died in childbirth, trying to have me.

I barely survived.

My father raised me himself, teaching me to never give up, never give in, and never change for anyone. He taught me how to play guitar, violin, and piano. All instruments that "proper young ladies" were not to touch. My father was such a rebel. I love him even now, even though he's gone. And never coming back…

He died when I was ten. Influenza is a murderer.

But, my grandmother wasn't completely heartless, in her own eyes, and saw fit to send me to all the proper schools to learn to be a clone. I went to finishing school and the like.

It was hell, to put it in short.

I should probably explain what I look like, shouldn't I?

My name is Aurora. Rory, for short. I'm about 5'4", give or take a few centimeters. Skinny, but not skeletal. Grandmother makes sure of that. I'm twenty-one and a half years old. Childish, I know, but I'd like to keep my childish spirit as long as possible. I have my mother's long, silky, tightly waved curled hair, and it's reached the middle of my back now. It's usually a large mess of curls, though. I hate having my hair done up all "perfect". I have a mixture of my father and mother's eyes. I've always loved them. A rare dark green around the iris, which fades to an almost cat-like golden color. My father's eyes were a deep green, like a valley of grasses in the shadow of a mountain. My mother's eyes, as golden as her personality.

I also have the unmistakable tanned skin of a Roma.

This brought on the insults at school.

I've come home to my grandmother's house crying multiple times. I used to get beat up, as well. At around age 14, I started to sneak out at night to the pubs and watch bar fights and boxing matches. I wanted to know how to protect myself. So I learned from the burly men of the "bad side of town".

My personality, I hope, is as fiery as my mother's. My father told me so many stories of her. It was enchanting.

She was like a goddess trapped in a human's body. Fierce and frightening, but friendly and fun at the same time.

I know I can be frightening. After learning all of those fighting moves and techniques and the sheer randomness of drunken brawling, the kids at school let me be.

I am friendly, but to those who truly deserve it. I do not spare kindness to the dogs of upper class.

I try to have as much fun as possible, taking on the role of family rule-breaker for my late father.

I do wish I could have met my mother.

But here I am, wandering the streets of Southampton. Listening in on gossips became a hobby after the fifth time I decided to wander off.

Two ladies passed by, the bags in their maid's hands trailing behind them making it obvious that they were off on a shopping spree, and they were talking awfully loud about a ship.

"Yes, Mary, I do believe the date of boarding is the twelfth. Roger tells me the voyage is to be at the highest luxury, I am most excited."

_Ooooh, luxury, _I thought, bored with the conversation already.

"What is the name of the ship again, Helen? _Titanic_, is it not? With a name like that, it sounds to be quite the marvel."

_Hmmm,_Titanic. _Ah think ah've heard that name b'fore…_

"Indeed, I cannot wait to see it with my own eyes. I hear it is the largest ship ever built, and unsinkable, as well. Where is it headed?"

"New York, Helen. How simply magnificent, don't you think?"

_Broads like you don't think, yer masters do it fer ye, _I thought bitterly.

Wait… New York? Was this the ship I heard Grandmother speaking of? The one she plans to send me off on?

_Well 'ot dog, I get to be one o' the first to board the _Titanic, '_ooray fer me._

I took my time getting home, and pardoned myself from dinner, having no appetite.

Going to New York all by my lonesome on a humongous ship, spending a week without a real soul to talk to. I'd be stuck in First Class, I know it. Grandmother wouldn't want her "favorite" granddaughter (She hates me.) to be off _flitting about_ with "steerage".

I hate pompous old hags.

I want to make my own choices.

I'd rather sleep on the floor with a group of rats in the lowest part of the ship than sit in a room full of lifeless "people" talking about absolutely nothing.

Why is she even sending me away?

Oh yeah…

…_Marriage._

_\\\_

Alright, I know it's terrible. Dx

I'll probably go ahead and write a second chapter now, while I have this in my head.

I just hope this wasn't burning your eyes. ):

I do believe Tommy should appear in the 3rd or 4th chapter. I'm just writing this off the bat, no guidelines.

I'm a REBEL. :D

Reviews?


	2. To the Iron Beauty

AND NOW FOR CHAPTER TWOOOOO! :D

I have a feeling this story will go to shit, but I may be just downing myself, as per usual.

I own nothing but Aurora and her family, and also her maid/best friend, LUCILLE! :D

…I wish I could own Tommy… c:

BAHAH. Wow.

\\\

_April 10__th__, 1912._

_Southampton, England._

Please be a nightmare. I want to wake up. I'm going to wake up, and everything will be all right. I will be in my chamber, painting my days away. Or out in the daylight, dancing with the good people of the Commons. Not on a vessel full of pompous bloodthirsty vampires.

Sadly, this is not a nightmare.

I am going to New York to be married off, to be out of my grandmother's "perfect" nasty aged hair.

Someone throttle me on the spot. Just kill me.

This may be someone else's dream, to be used as a playing card for their rich snobby families, but my dream is much different.

I want to be a free as a bird. I'll spread my wings and fly away, and get as far away as possible from these creeps. Hell, I'd join a caravan. At least I could be accepted among my own people.

Oh well, maybe I can run away to California once I hit America.

I'd have Lucille, my maid and only friend, come with me.

Lucille Thompson was a well-trained maid, always "knew her place". But I knew how to dig under her skin, and get her to break free from her little maid-cage.

_Oh, how ah wish we could just run away now. We could rough it, _I thought while sitting in an armchair.

"Aurora! Aurora, darling, it is time we headed to the dock. And wipe that wretched daydreaming face off, it is not proper." Grandmother had such a kind way with words.

"Of co'rse, of co'rse, no need te shout." I whispered to myself, bored with waiting for this moment to come. _Ah'm about to enter a whole new Hell. _

"Miss Aurora, if you do not hurry, we are going to be late! Then Mistress Carigan will have both of our heads! Do you wish for us to have that fate?" I can always count on Lucille for her sincere optimism.

"Lucille, 'ow many times do ah 'ave to tell ye, call me Rory. Aurora makes me sound like some sor' o' princess or somethin'. Which, as ye know, Ah'm far from. And as for the beheadin', she'd be far too worried to be spoilin' 'er freshly primped dress with our "unworthy" blood. Ye've nothin' te worry about." I smiled at her with my unusually warm smile.

On the outside, I bet I looked happy as a small child at Christmas. But on the inside, I was destroying everything in sight, burning every perfect little house down, beating up every "gentleman" that has secretly beat their wives (which may very well include every man in the upper ranks of society. Prove me wrong, go on.), and parading about the streets bare-naked screaming as loud as I could.

You can only imagine how badly I wish for freedom.

"Fine, Miss Rory. We _really_ must be going. Here, I'll get your things, you get along to the car, please."

_Ah think ah'm startin' to bug 'er. _"Aw'right, ah'm goin'. Dun git yer knickers in a twist, deary." _Might as well git out o' here. Time to "live the dream"!_

And so we were off to board the Iron Beauty.

Upon arrival, we ran into Mrs. Ruth DeWitt Bukater, her daughter Rose, whom attended Finishing School with me but in different years, and her fiancé Caledon Hockley. The only person I enjoyed from this group is Rose, we share many memories from school. I may be four years older, but I see her as a younger sister.

"Oh, Carigan, how are you, darling?" said Mrs. Dewitt Bukater. _Ah hate 'er face, ah hate 'er voice, ah hate 'er in general. She's almost worse than me grandmother._

"Ruth, dear, so nice to see you. And Rose! How much you've grown since we last met. You've grown to be quite the beauty. Cal, you are a lucky man."

_Suck up._

"Why thank you, Carigan. My, my, what a lovely dress you're wearing. And who is this fine lady? It seems we've never been acquainted." _Nor would I like to be, sonny Jim. _

"Cal, may I introduce my granddaughter, Aurora Hawthorne. She will be joining you all on your journey to New York. Along with her maid, Lucille." Lucille curtseyed at this. I just gave a small smile to show some sort of acknowledgement. When Cal turned away, I winked at Rose. The poor thing. She obviously disliked everything about this man, no matter the fact that he is her fiancé.

"You mean to say you are not accompanying her?" Ruth still fails at showing true concern. It has never been her strong point.

"No, Ruth, I am staying here. Aurora here is off to hopefully meet her future husband. Now that she is twenty-one, I trust she can find a suitable husband without my guidance." _Ye got that right, Gran._

Cal cut in, "I would love to keep this conversation going, but we do not want to miss the boarding."

"Yes, go on, I shan't keep you any longer. Have a safe trip! Aurora, dear, let me have a word," Grandmother said.

"Yes, Grandmother?"

"You are to behave. None of this foolishness, especially without me there to dig you out every time you bury yourself in embarrassment." _Ah'm quite sure it's 'er own embarrassment she's worried about._ "Do NOT besmirch this family name, or else you will no longer have a family. Do I make myself clear?" She threatened.

"Yes, Grandmother."

_This should be a fun voyage, eh?_

\\\

GAH. Chapter 3 should be up soon.

I hope I didn't completely butcher anything. D:

Reviews are appreciated.


	3. Lunch with Vultures

Yay.

Chapter three.

BAHAH. How I wish for a higher confidence.

I'm trying to find a way to show pictures of what outfits I find for Rory.

I OWN NOTHING BUT THE CHARACTERS THAT ARE NOT IN THE MOVIE, etc etc.

\\\

_April 10__th__, 1912._

_On board the _Titanic_, Southampton, England._

"Lucille, do ye 'ave any idea what room we're in? Ah'm startin' te think we're lost, luv," I said, looking down the hallways we passed.

"I believe we're in B-23 and 24, Miss Rory," she replied.

"Must ah insist ye call me just Rory everyday, Lu?" I nagged.

"Until the day I'm discharged, Miss Rory." _Silly Lucy._

It took us ages to find the bloody room, but we found it in the end. Grandmother's money is only good for getting us lost. Right now, I truly wish I were in the Third Class. I mean, have you seen the First Class rooms? It's like being in miniature house. It's revolting. And everything is so… SHINY. As attracting as shiny objects are for me, this is downright annoying.

Beauty must really be in the eye of the beholder, because I'm not seeing it here.

I know where I'll be spending my time, then.

"Madam, where would you like your instruments placed?" So the stewards found us! Huzzah!

"O'er there, by the fireplace, if ye will, luv," I replied.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Please, call me Rory," I said with a warm smile.

The steward looked relieved to see I wasn't some sort of evil witch. "Yes… Rory."

"Miss Rory, you brought your instruments?" _Why does she sound surprised?_

"O' co'rse ah brought 'em. Did ye think ah'd leave 'em with tha' creature ah 'ave te call me grandmother? She'd burn 'em first chance she got." I take my guitar, violin, and Irish drum everywhere I travel. I know that Lucille would "secretly" be upset if I didn't bring my violin. She knows how to play very well. Turns out her father taught her how to play behind her mother's back, just as my father taught me behind Grandmother's.

"Let's hope your grandmother doesn't find out…"

"Ye think ah'd let such a thing 'appen, Lu? Ye know ye'd be pissy if ah forgot me violin, anyways. Dun deny it!" I waved my finger playfully at her.

"…Alright, Miss Rory. As long as we do not get in trouble…"

"Ye know wot ah jus' noticed? Ye didn't address me grandmother as Mistress or Lady Hawthorne, or anythin' proper. Ye've been 'round me too much, luv. Best wotch yeself." I'm such a tease. She smacked my arm in retaliation.

\\\

_April 11__th__, 1912._

_After leaving the coast of Ireland, en route to New York._

"Miss Rory, it's time for lunch. We are to join Mrs. DeWitt Bukater and her daughter."

"AH! Rosie! Ah can't wait. 'elp me get dressed then, please. Ah wish to wear the ivory dress, ah quite like tha' one. And oh, dun let me forget me ciggies."

Yet another thing I do to piss off society. Proper women don't smoke. I may have gotten Rose hooked on it, as well.

_And now, off te dine with the sharks._

\\\

_Later that afternoon, In the First Class dining room._

I swear, these are the most boring people in the universe. Apart from Rose, Molly Brown, and Mr. Andrews. Molly is quite possibly my favorite female adult on this part of the ship. Mr. Andrews being my favorite male adult on this part of the ship.

"She is the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all history. And our master shipbuilder, Mr. Andrews here, designed her from the keel plates up." Bruce Ismay is a rat.

"I may have knocked her together, but the idea was Mr. Ismay's." _That's quite surprising, in my opinion. _"He envisioned a steamer, so grand in scale and so luxurious that its supremacy could never be challenged. And here she is, willed into solid reality."

After Mr. Andrews stopped talking, the only thing I noticed at that table was Rose lighting a cigarette. I was focused on drinking my glass of water.

That is, until I heard Rose say: "Do you know of Dr. Freud, Mr. Ismay? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size may be of particular interest to you." At this, I choked on my water, and immediately was thrown into a coughing fit. Mr. Andrews sat chuckling while patting my back in attempt to help me.

"What has gotten into you?" Ruth is displeased.

"Excuse me." Rose got up, and I joined her.

"If you'll excuse me as well, I need some fresh air." I do hope my indecent accent was hidden well enough for them.

Outside, I pulled out a cigarette and walked up behind Rose.

"Ye are the gutsiest seventeen-year-old ah 'ave ever met, ye know tha', right? Ye remind me of meself," She smiled at this. I lit my cigarette and looked out to the ocean. It's such a calming sight. I then looked down to the Third Class deck, where Rose had averted her attention. I saw a man about her age with sandy blonde hair, a tanned man with dark hair, who I'm guessing was either Italian or Spanish, and a man in a brown bowler hat with his back to me.

Rose had her attention fixed on the sandy-haired man, while I just looked between the three of them. Until the bowler hat man turned, and I saw his face. From what I could see, he had curly light brown, auburn hair and stubbles on his face. I couldn't see his eyes very well, but I could tell he was staring straight at me. I took a hit of my cigarette and raised an eyebrow. _'e's a cutie._

Now I definitely have a reason to go to the Third Class deck.

Cal joined us outside shortly after, and went straight for Rose's arm. He even had the audacity to take my cig and throw it out to the ocean.

The glare he received could have killed him, if it was a knife.

"What is wrong with you? Go back inside at once and apologize. And you, you should know better than to be a poor role model to Rose here."

"And you should know better than to touch my cigarettes, Cal."

He only glared at me, since Rose had walked off. He trailed behind her, and I stayed at the railing. After a few moments, I found myself staring down at the bowler hat man again. He was still looking up at me, as were the other two. The sandy-haired one seemed off in his own little world, though. No doubt Rose's doing.

I lit another cigarette and leaned on the railing, watching the sun's rays bounce off of the ocean's waves.

\\\

TOMMY'S POV :D

"Do ye make any money wit yer drawings?" I asked Jack.

His attention, however, was focused on a girl who had just walked up to the railing. I looked up again, just as an angel walked up beside her. She had long curly black locks, with white ribbons laced in and out of it, along with an ivory colored veil, with an ivory colored dress with black accents that fitted her perfectly. And to my surprise, she was smoking a cigarette. She said something to the red haired girl, who smiled in reply.

"Ah, forget it, boyo. It is like as angels fly out of your arse as getting next to the likes of her." But I couldn't seem to keep my eyes away, either. I was glued to the girl with dark hair.

A man walked up and grabbed the red haired girl's arm harshly, and took the dark haired girl's cigarette and threw it out to the ocean. From what I could see, she looked as if she wanted to kill him on the spot for that.

They exchanged words, and the man and red haired girl walked off. The dark haired one stayed, lit another cigarette, and locked eyes with me again. I can feel the butterflies now.

She turned her attention to the ocean again, and I watched.

\\\

Shiiiiit dude. Haha. I'm trying to follow this as closely to the movie as possible. I'm watching the movie as I type. Bahahaha.

Reviews!


	4. An Evening Stroll and ChitChat

CHAPTER FOUR!

I own nothing except my own characters.

If this story sucks, stop reading, 'cause it's doubtful that it'll get any better. I don't know though, do what you want.

Bahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…

\\\

_April 11__th__, 1912._

_Later that evening, Rory's POV._

"Lucy, ah'm gonna go fer an evenin' stroll, if ye go to dinner tell them ah wasn't feelin' well or somethin'." I want to go to the Third Class deck. Maybe I can find Bowler Hat guy…

"Are you sure, Miss Rory? You might upset the others…"

"An' ye should know well by now that I DUN CARE FER THEIR OPINIONS. Ah'm off now, enjoy yer dinner!" I gave a little wave and was on my way.

At first I walked all the way around the First Class deck, and once night hit and I was sure that all of the snobs would be engrossed by their dinners, I made my way down to the Third Class deck. I went looking for the spot where I had seen him.

Sure enough, there he was.

I didn't want him to notice me, because I had just realized I never thought of what I was going to do once I found him, so I stood about 8 feet away at the same railing and whipped out a cigarette. I searched my whole outfit for my matches, but it seems I had forgotten them. I usually keep them in the bosom of my dress.

"Here, let me light that fer ye." _Oh no, 'e spoke te me. Think, Rory!_

"Oh… why thank ye, sir."

"If ye don't mind me askin', what kind of accent is that?"

_It seems ah've let me "proper English" slip away._

"Ah dun even know meself, honestly. Ye see, when ah was younger, Ah'd sneak off te the pubs in Southampton and wotch all those big tough men drink an' brawl and 'ave fun. Ah envied 'em, ah guess."

"An' why is that?" His smile is so infectious. I smiled back.

"They're free." At this I looked away, my smile faltering, and stared at the waves.

I could tell he was looking at me, my guess trying to figure out why my mood had changed so suddenly.

"So ye're unhappy then?"

"Yes… ah'm unhappy." I looked into his sparkling brown eyes. They were filled with concern and curiousity.

"Ye know, ah dun even know ye're name, an' ah jus' spilled my guts out te ye." I flashed a small smile.

He stuck out his hand in reply and said, "Me name is Thomas Ryan. Pleased to meet ye."

I took his hand, which was warm and calloused, no doubt from hard work at a lumberyard or shipyard. "Ah'm Aurora Hawthorne."

"Aurora, eh? That's quite a beautiful name. It fits ye well, if ye don't mind me saying."

"An' why is tha', Mr. Ryan?"

"Call me Tommy."

I smiled again, we were on first name basis. "Aw'right, Tommy. How does me name fit me well?"

"Because ye're beautiful, as well, Miss Hawthorne."

By now my smile had reached a cheshire grin, and I was probably a deep shade of red.

"If ah'm to call ye Tommy, ye best be callin' me Rory. An' thank ye, fer the compliment."

_Gosh, 'is smile is so gorgeous._

"Well, Rory, ye deserve to be complimented," he winked at me.

"Thank ye—"

A blood-curdling scream interrupted my thanks, and I recognized it immediately.

"Rose." That's all I said, as I bolted off in the direction of the scream, Tommy right behind me.

\\\

And that's all I've got for Chapter Four.

I'll write more later. I'm gonna watch the movie again.

:D

Reviews are cool.

Oh, I'm still trying to find a way to show what the dresses look like and such.


	5. OUTFITS

Here are links, just get rid of the spaces and you should be good.

http:/ i130. photobucket .com/albums /p244/frillie/ IVORYDRESS .jpg

ivory dress.

http:/ i130. photobucket .com/albums /p244/frillie/ IVORYHAT .jpg

ivory hat.

http:/ i130. photobucket .com/albums /p244/frillie/ 1909_moden .jpg

red dress she wears the evening she first talks to Tommy.

http:/ i130. photobucket .com/albums /p244/frillie/ formal-4013-01-edwardian-wedding .jpg

dress she wears during the day, when Jack shows Rose his drawings.

http:/ www. kshs .org/exhibits/partydresses /graphics/ 1965_12_15 .jpg

dress she wears to the dinner with Jack and Rose.

http:/ i130. photobucket .com/albums /p244/frillie/ 4434312-lady-dancing-flamenco-in-traditional-costume .jpg

dress she wears to the party in Third Class.

http:/ i130. photobucket .com/albums /p244/frillie/ BeadedCottonGauzeDress1914-1916 .jpg

dress she wears the next day.

After that she wears a pair of Tommy's pants with suspenders and a sweater, when the boat's sinking.


	6. Music on the Deck

Chapter five!

I own nothing but my own characters.

\\\

"Rose." That's all I said, as I bolted off in the direction of the scream, Tommy right behind me.

When we reached the source of the screams, the scene before us was questionable. Rose was on the ground, and the sandy haired boy from before was over her. I heard Tommy whisper "Jack" in disbelief, and I walked up to Rose as the sailors detained the man Tommy called Jack.

"Are ye aw'right, luv?" I whispered as I hugged her.

"I'm fine, I'm fine… This isn't what it looks like, Rory…" She whispered back.

I looked at her curiously, as Cal and the Brandy Brigade ran up with the Master at Arms.

"Tommy, ye should probably go. Ah'll find ye tomorrow, same place, aw'right?" I winked at him.

He smiled and nodded.

\\\

"Completely unacceptable! What makes you think you can put your hands on _my _fiancé? Look at _ME, _you filth!" Cal yelled angrily.

"Cal!" Rose tried to stop him.

"What do you think you were doing?"

I sat with Rose while she tried to get Cal's attention, and finally I screamed, "CAL HOCKLEY!"

He turned, "What?"

"It was an accident!" Rose got up and made up this story to keep Jack from being detained. I knew it couldn't be true. The fact that his shoes and jacket were off made that hard to believe. But I also highly doubt he was trying to rape her, or else she wouldn't be trying to protect him.

"So the boy's a hero then! Good show!" said the Colonel.

Cal made to walk away with Rose, but the Colonel stopped him.

"Perhaps a little something for the boy?"

"Ah yes, Mr. Lovejoy, I think a twenty should do it…"

Rose chuckled darkly, "Is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?"

"Rose is displeased. What to do? I know. Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow evening, to regale our group with your… heroic tale."

Jack hesitated a moment before answering, "Sure, why not."

_Now this should be interestin'._

Before I walked off I threw a smile and a wink at Jack to show I didn't have anything against him. I hope they explain the real story to me later.

\\\

_April 12__th__, 1912._

_The afternoon when Jack shows Rose his drawings._

"Lu, grab the violin, ah'll grab the guitar. Ah wish te play a few songs out on the Third Class deck. Maybe they'll appreciate 'em."

"Yes, Miss Rory."

"Ye do realize ye're playin' with me, right?" I mentioned with a smile.

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to me, "Oh no, no, no, Miss Rory, I couldn't do that."

"O co'rse ye can! Ye play violin better than me, anyway. Come on then, let's get to the deck, lassie," I said, walking out the door. Lucille followed behind me, head down in embarrassment. "Yes, Rory."

I froze, which caused her to bump into me.

"Did ye just say wot ah think ye said?" My smile grew, tauntingly.

Her face could be compared to a fish right now.

_Poor thing is embarrassed te pieces, now._

"Well- I, I was just- I said 'Yes, Miss Rory', that- that's all I said." And with that she tried to walk ahead of me to kill the conversation.

"Ah knew ah could get ye to break free eventually, Lu. Welcome te happiness." I ran up behind her and gave her a back-breaking hug.

"Rory, I can't breathe." _Right, breathing. Ooops._

I let go of her, threw her a huge grin, grabbed her arm, and began almost running to the Third Class deck. Tommy wasn't anywhere to be seen, so hopefully that meant he was still asleep.

_I hope 'e doesn't forget to come... Ah really want te see 'im._

"Where would you like to set our things down, Miss- I mean, Rory?" Lucille asked.

I smiled at her, "Ah'm glad ye're finally comin' 'round, luv. Let's sit on tha' bench there."

There were some children playing tag on the deck, and I actually had to dodge a few of them, but we made it safely to a bench and sat down. I took my guitar out of its case and tuned it.

"What songs are you planning on playing, Rory?" _Inquisitive today, ain't she?_

"Oh, ah'm not even entirely sure meself. 'ow about... 'The Rocky Road to Dublin'? Ah want te see if ah can sing it without dying due te lack o' breath," I laughed.

"All right, Rory. One, two, three." We began to play, and I began to sing. (Look up this song, by the Dubliners. It's on Sherlock Holmes, the boxing match scene.)

"While in the merry month of May from me home I started,  
>Left the girls of Tuam so sad and broken hearted,<br>Saluted father dear, kissed me darling mother,  
>Drank a pint of beer, me grief and tears to smother,<br>Then off to reap the corn, leave where I was born,  
>Cut a stout black thorn to banish ghosts and goblins;<br>Bought a pair of brogues rattling o'er the bogs  
>And fright'ning all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin.<p>

One, two, three four, five,  
>Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road<br>all the way to Dublin, Whack follol de rah!

In Mullingar that night I rested limbs so weary,  
>Started by daylight next morning blithe and early,<br>Took a drop of pure to keep me heartfrom sinking;  
>Thats a Paddy's cure whenever he's on drinking.<br>See the lassies smile, laughing all the while  
>At me curious style, 'twould set your heart a bubblin'<br>Asked me was I hired, wages I required,  
>I was almost tired of the rocky road to Dublin.<p>

One, two, three four, five,  
>Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road<br>all the way to Dublin, Whack follol de rah!

In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pity  
>To be soon deprived a view of that fine city.<br>So then I took a stroll, all among the quality;  
>Me bundle it was stole, all in a neat locality.<br>Something crossed me mind, when I looked behind,  
>No bundle could I find upon me stick a wobblin'<br>Enquiring for the rogue, they said me Connaught brogue  
>Wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin.<p>

One, two, three four, five,  
>Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road<br>all the way to Dublin, Whack follol de rah!

From there I got away, me spirits never falling,  
>Landed on the quay, just as the ship was sailing.<br>The Captain at me roared, said that no room had he;  
>When I jumped aboard, a cabin found for Paddy.<br>Down among the pigs, played some hearty rigs,  
>Danced some hearty jigs, the water round me bubbling;<br>When off Holyhead I wished meself was dead,  
>Or better for instead on the rocky road to Dublin.<p>

One, two, three four, five,  
>Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road<br>all the way to Dublin, Whack follol de rah!

Well the boys of Liverpool, when we safely landed,  
>Called meself a fool, I could no longer stand it.<br>Blood began to boil, temper I was losing;  
>Poor old Erin's Isle they began abusing.<br>"Hurrah me soul" says I, me Shillelagh I let fly.  
>Some Galway boys were nigh and saw I was a hobble in,<br>With a load "hurray !" joined in the affray.  
>We quitely cleared the way for the rocky road to Dublin.<p>

One, two, three four, five,  
>Hunt the Hare and turn her down<br>the rocky road and all the way to Dublin,  
>Whack follol de rah!"<p>

I took a huge breath and let my guitar sag a bit. "Ah know it's in a _man's_ point of view for tha' song, but ah love it very much."

I heard some applause from a couple farther down the deck, and some of the kids decided to give us a crowd and sat in a half circle in front of us.

"Play some more songs, miss!_" Aaw, wot a cute lil' child._

I smiled at him and said, "Aw'right, dears, wot kind o' song would ye like te hear?"

They sat and pondered a few moments, when a little girl said, "do ye know the song 'The Lighthouse's Tale', miss?"

I sat for a second and replied, "Well yes, but tha's quite a sad song. Ye sure ye want us te play it?"

She smiled and nodded eagerly.

_The song must be special te her._

"Aw'right, lassie. Ye know 'The Lighthouse's Tale', don' ye, Lu?" She nodded, so I adjusted my guitar, "Right, one... two... three." (Brigid's Cross's version of this is VERY good. I suggest you look it up.)

"I am a lighthouse worn by the weather and the waves  
>I keep my lamp lit to warn the sailors on their way<br>I'll tell a story, paint you a picture from my past  
>I was so happy but joy in this life seldom lasts<p>

I had a keeper, he helped me warn the ships at sea  
>We had grown closer 'til his joy meant everything to me<br>And he was to marry a girl who shown with beauty and light  
>They loved each other, and with me watched the sunsets into nights<p>

And the waves crashing around me  
>The sand slips out to sea<br>And the winds that blow remind me  
>Of what has been and what can never be<p>

She'd had to leave us; my keeper, he prayed for a safe return  
>But when the night came, the weather to a raging storm had turned<br>He watched her ship fight, but in vain against the wild and terrible wind  
>And me so helpless, as dashed against the rocks she met her end<p>

And the waves crashing around me  
>The sand slips out to sea<br>And the winds that blow remind me  
>Of what has been and what can never be<p>

Then on the next day, my keeper found her washed up on the shore  
>He kissed her cold face, and that they'd be together soon he swore<br>I saw him crying, watched as he buried her in the sand  
>Then he climbed my tower, and off the edge of me he ran<p>

And the waves crashing around me  
>The sand slips out to sea<br>And the winds that blow remind me  
>Of what has been and what can never be<p>

I am a lighthouse worn by the weather and the waves  
>And though I'm empty I still warn the sailors on their way."<p>

The children applauded, but one clap stood out among them. There was no way a child could have that loud of a clap. I turned around and locked eyes with Tommy Ryan, whose hands were still clapping.

"Ye have a beautiful voice, Rory. An' who taught ye te play guitar?"

I blushed. "Thank ye, Tommy. An' me father did. 'e loved music."

"Well then 'e was a great teacher," he flashed a familiar smile at me.

"Rory, who is that?" Lucille whispered to me.

"Oh! 'ow rude of me," I stood up, "Lucille Thompson, may ah introduce ye te Thomas Ryan, better known as Tommy. 'e kept me company on the deck las' night when ah took tha' _evenin' stroll_."

Again, with the fish face. "Well it's- It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ryan-"

"Tommy, if ye please, Miss Lucille." She blushed at this. She never gets addressed as "Miss" Lucille. She was a maid, not anything _important. _I wish she could realize how important she really is, at least to me.

_"_Aaw, Lu is embarrassed!" I pinched her cheeks and she smacked my hands away, me laughing all the while.

"Well, ah think tha's enough music fer today, sorry kiddies!" The children groaned in protest, "Maybe tomorrow we'll come back down an' play again." They smiled at this.

"Goodbye, miss!" The little girl from before came and hugged me.

"Goodbye, sweethear'," I said, ruffling her hair.

"Ye're quite popular already, Rory," Tommy said to me, flashing yet another smile at me as he lit a cigarette.

"Rory, I'm going to go back to the room, I'll take the instruments," Lucille began to put the instruments back into their cases.

"Ye sure? Ye want any 'elp?"

"No, no, it's a beautiful day out, why don't you and Tommy here take a walk?" she said, winking at me.

Tommy seemed to like this idea and said, "Yeah, Rory, let's take a walk, we can continue our conversation from las' night."

I just stood there for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah, sounds like a good plan, let's go. See you later, Lu! Don' 'ave too much fun without me!"

"I think you'll be the one having too much fun, Rory," she laughed and began her ascent up the stairs to the First Class deck.

Tommy held out his arm, mocking the so-called "gentlemen" of First Class, and winked at me. I took his arm, and it was then when I realized how muscular his arms were, and how warm _he _was.

I smiled up at him, and we began our journey around the decks of _Titanic._

_\\\_

Okay, that's all I've got for now.

I might be able to write another tomorrow sometime, but I don't know. I might actually write it down on paper then put it on here when I get the chance.

REVIEWWWWWWW? :D


	7. A Little Walk, A Little Talk

Chapter six. :D

I own nothing but my characters. And I've noticed that Tommy has so many different stories to his past in all of the fics I've read, so I went ahead and made one up myself.

\\\

"So, Tommy. Tell me about yeself."

He looked at me and asked, "What would ye like te know?"

I smiled and looked him straight in the eye. "Anythin' an' everythin'. Tell me of yer family, where ye grew up, yer favorite color, anythin'."

"Well, ah grew up in Ireland, if ye couldn't tell by me ravishing accent," I smiled and chuckled, "ah don't know about me favorite color, though. Most of me family is still in Ireland. Money was beginnin' te be a real problem. So, ah decided te come te America, the _Land of Opportunities_, so ah could make more money to send home, or maybe even have me family join me here. Me mam, she's a great woman, and me father is a strong man. Ah have two sisters and three brothers. Michael is the oldest; he has three kids of his own with his wife Mary and lives in Belfast. He, along with me dad and me other brother Liam, helped build this ship. Liam is the second oldest, and he's a twin with my sister, Margaret. Margaret is a chambermaid in London. Next there's Fiona, she lives at home with me mam. Then Johnny, he's already livin' in America with his wife Darla and two kids. Ah'm the baby of the family," he finished.

"Ah want to meet yer family," I said suddenly.

"…What?" He looked surprised.

I beamed at him and said, "ye heard me, Tommy Ryan."

He smiled and whispered in my ear, "does this mean ye wish to keep in close contact, Rory?"

I went silent and looked away, determined to make him think he upset me. I enjoy teasing.

"Did I say somethin' wrong?" He said quietly.

I giggled and looked into his eyes, "O' co'rse no', luv. Ah would love te 'keep in close contact'. Especially after we get off this bloody ship. Honestly, yer the greatest man ah've ever met."

_Ah do believe 'e's blushing…_

"Ah'll hold ye te that, Aurora."

\\\

Yeah, I know, extremely short chapter. But I'm sorry. I don't think any of my chapters will be very long.

I hope you enjoy what I have to offer! :D

Reviewsss.


	8. Dindin and Decisions

CHAPTER SEVENNNN!

Sorry I haven't written in a few days, I just saw X-Men: First Class twice, and it blew my mind. Plus I had a birthday party to go to.

PLANS, PLANS, PLANS.

Bahaha, so anyways, here's chapter seven.

I own only my characterssssssss.

\\\

"It's startin' to get dark, luv," Tommy spoke after a few minutes of silence. We had been leaning on the railing where we had first met, watching the sun take its journey to its bed beneath the waves.

"Ah do believe ye're right, Tommy." At that moment, the horn was sounded for dinner.

"Och, ah hate tha' bloody horn. It's dinner, not the start of a damn battle." Tommy laughed at that.

"Do ye wish me to escort ye back to yer cabin, Miss Hawthorne?" He asked as he bowed.

I giggled in response and said, "Yes, Sir Thomas, ye may."

I took his arm as we began our adventure to my lonely cabin. _Ah wonder if Lucille 'as already gotten a dress out. Ah bet she did, she loves bein' prepared._ _Ah hope it's one ah can breathe in…_

"Well, 'ere we are. The _humble abode_. If ye could even call it tha'." Tommy laughed and asked, "Is it that bad?"

"Would ye like te see fer yerself?" I said, opening the door.

The look on his face was priceless. I thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head. He must think this looks fantastic, and is most likely wondering why I hate it so. "Ye can go in, ye know," I whispered with a smile. At that he slowly made his way in, taking in every overly shiny object into his sight.

"_Wow…"_ He breathed.

"It's no' as great as it looks, tha' ah promise ye." He finally looked at me and stared for a moment, before walking up to me and taking my hand.

"If ye're so unhappy, why do ye stay? Why don't ye just up and leave?"

If only it could be tha' easy…

I frowned and replied, "Because ah can't just "up an' leave". It's me duty to me grandmother as a Hawthorne te be married off and keep the money flowing."

"Somethin' tells me that this is no' the life fer ye, Rory. Ye know… ah could take care o' ye, you an' me against the world. Ah may no' be able to give you fancy dresses and expensive wine, but ah can make ye happy," he paused for a moment and leaned in to whisper in my ear, "If ye change yer mind, ah'll be waiting for ye, E Deck, General Room. Dress fer a party, an' bring tha' lovely laugh o' yers." He kissed my cheek and left the room.

I stood in shock, and raised a hand to my cheek.

"Rory, you should get dressed, or we'll be late for dinner—Rory? Rory, what's the matter?" Lucille looked concerned that I was just standing there with my hand on my cheek, staring at the floor. I must've been blushing, because she then asked, "Did that man kiss you?"

I smiled and asked her to help me put the dress on.

\\\

_That evening, at dinner._

"Tell us of the accommodations in _steerage_, Mr. Dawson. I hear they're quite good on this ship." Ruth is such a bitch.

"Best I've seen, ma'am. Hardly any rats," Jack replied smartly.

I laughed with everyone, but only half-heartedly. I was still focused on what Tommy had said. _He's right._

I zoned out completely for the next few minutes, until I finally made my decision.

"If you'll excuse me, I am not feeling so well tonight. I'm going to retire to my cabin," and with that, I got up and went to change.

This dress is not appropriate for a party.

\\\

Yes, short chapter again, but I'm tired.

I'll write more tomorrow or something.

REVIEWWWSSSS :D

Please? D:


	9. AUTHOR'S NOTE

FOR ALL READERS

This is just a note to let everyone know I'm still alive and kicking, just taking a long break from writing fan fics. This is going to be posted on all of my current fan fics.

Anyways, thank you for the reviews and for reading my fan fics, I greatly appreciate it.

I will be writing on more topics now. I'm also going to rethink past ones. I'm not very happy with most of 'em.

I'm pretty much waiting for graduation, so after June and after I'm moved in at the new location, I shall be writing more often and with better…stuff.

Much love,

Becca.


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